


Three Weeks

by Annalas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Meg Lives, The Pizza Man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annalas/pseuds/Annalas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a well-known fact that angels are generally prompt about things. So where the hell is Castiel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Weeks

Three Weeks

She laid there, her vessel dying around her. She wondered if Crowley had meant to miss her heart, or if he had just been in too much pain from where she had stabbed him to realize that he had missed. A stomach wound was no walk in the park, but at least she was alive for a few extra minutes. Of course, she was in shock and would likely die from that before anything else. Funny things, humans. They could survive the damnedest things, but if their body went into shock, it was all over. She was fairly sure it was over for her. 

Where did demons go when they died? Did they cease to exist, or was there another, nastier version of hell for them? What if they went to Purgatory, like shape shifters and vampires? How could anyone, anything just _stop_ existing?

Meg was glad that she was lying on the ground. The world spun around her, growing dimmer by the second. She was getting cold, too. She closed her eyes, trying to accept the inevitability of her own demise. She had been through a lot, with Azazel, and especially afterwards. This time, though...it was truly the end. She supposed she could smoke out and find a new host, but what good would that end do? Crowley could be nearby, waiting for just that. 

It wasn't like she had any real friends, anyway. She was confident now that Crowley would die at the hands of either the Winchesters or Castiel. One of them would get it into their heads to avenge her death. She may not be a friend, exactly, but she was a causality. 

The sound of feet scraping across the ground roused her from her quickly fading musings. Breathing was hard enough; as much as she wanted to get in one last jab at Crowley, there just wasn't enough fight left in her. She couldn't even tell which direction the footsteps were coming from. She was cold, and shivering, and in pain. Dying, she decided, sucked.

"Meg." A familiar voice broke through the fog in her brain. With the greatest of efforts, she forced her eyes opened. She could only see a pinpoint of light, but she knew who was there. 

_Clarence,_ she wanted to say. She wanted to make a snarky remark about him coming back for her. Tell him to get his angelic ass out of here before Crowley caught him. If only she could force her throat to work. Ha. She couldn't even control her own body right now, as it lay shivering, dying on the ground. 

A hand touched her face, cupping her cheek in the gentlest of motions. Suddenly, the pain receded. Her trembling stopped, her breath coming easier. Damn angels, she thought as she opened her eyes again. She couldn't remember having closed them. 

"Dammit, Clarence," she murmured as Castiel hauled her to her feet. "You had to come back, didn't you?"

"For you?" he replied, wrapping his arms around her. "Yes."

There was no question in his tone. Of course he had come back, she thought. Damn angel. Then again, at least she was going to be around long enough to see Crowley die. There were perks to being friends with an angel.

Her stomach jerked as she was transported to a bus station. She grasped Castiel's arms out of reflex, alarmed at the sudden swell in movement and noise around her. He was already stepping away from her, heading towards the ticket counter. 

"Hey, wait up!" she called, trotting after him. Ah, the amazing healing powers of angels. She didn't even hurt anymore. Still a bit dizzy, maybe, but the pain was gone. "What, you just rescue a girl and walk off?"

She knew he had the tablet. Sam and Dean had gotten into the car without him, which meant that the tablet should have been long gone, as should have Castiel. Instead, the big dummy had come back to save her. 

"We have to leave this place," his gravelly voice explained. "We'll take separate buses."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. Castiel had a bag in his hands, and she could guess what it contained. "You don't trust me to be on the same bus with you?"

"They think you're dead," he explained. "Consider it a new start."

"And what happened to coming over after this was all finished?" she retorted. "Lemme guess. You gotta protect the tablet."

He only gazed at her in return. Meg let out a frustrated sigh. Damn angel. He was hot, and he had saved her bacon, but his attitude needed some work. She wasn't sure that she didn't like crazy Castiel a bit better, to be honest. 

"How about this," she offered, her voice holding a slight drawl to it. "You run away with your little tablet and I'll go my own way. Then, maybe in a few weeks, you drop by for that pizza? Should be enough time to stash the tablet somewhere safe."

There it was, that small smile. Her lips curled into a matching one as the line moved, forcing them closer to the ticket booth. Her angel was so damn serious all the time. It was nice seeing him let loose enough to smile.

"I...would like that," Castiel replied hesitantly. 

"Look me up in Seattle," she said, stepping out of the line. "Three weeks from now."

"Three weeks," her angel acknowledged. She gave him a smile and turned away. Three weeks.


End file.
